An Unexpected Life
by Isarnicole
Summary: An unexpected pregnancy. An unexpected reunion. An unexpected love. Katniss and Peeta find each other again 6 years after graduating high school. They both hold painful pasts, but together they embark on an uncertain future toward the happy ending that they have both been searching for. Modern AU. Everlark. Multi-Chapter. Alternating POV's. Rated M.
1. The Morning After and New Beginnings

**A/N: I have edited this from the original that was posted to (hopefully) fix all of the grammatical errors and to change the story very slightly. If you still find any mistakes, I apologize.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Katniss_

The beam of early morning light filtered in through the opening in the curtains and landed directly across both of her closed eyelids. She groaned and tried to turn away from the unwelcomed light threatening to disturb the alcohol induced sleep coma she had been in. She cracked an eyelid hissing at the offending brightness of the morning sun. There was a heavy weight across her middle blocking her attempts to move. The weight was an arm and that arm was attached to a man in her bed; a naked man. Looking down she saw that she was also naked, and snippets of the night before started to work their way back into her consciousness.

"Shit," she muttered to herself, scrubbing the grit of sleep from her eyes. What the hell was his name? It was something ridiculous, that much she was sure of. It had been something like magical, miraculous, marvelous…Marvel, that's it! She scoffed under her breath and rolled her eyes. He had been anything but a marvel. With a name like that his parents must have had high hopes for him when he was born. Or, it had to be some stupid nickname that he thought made him sound intriguing or sexy. While she admitted that he wasn't bad looking, he was definitely not someone she would have chosen to bring home if she were sober and absolutely not the first night she met him. She was lonely and had too much to drink. He was available and kept plying her with more alcohol and sleazy pick-up lines. She needed to get him out of her room and her apartment. She needed a very large coffee, a shower and some alone time.

She gently lifted his arm and rolled out from under it, letting it drop back down on the mattress with a dull thud. He didn't even move. The only thing that confirmed he wasn't dead was the sound of his snore that occasionally drifted out from the pillow his head was buried under. Grabbing her robe and securing it tightly around her, she walked to the other side of the bed and cringed at the bare leg and naked ass hanging out from under her favorite comforter. She made a mental note to wash the bed clothes after he was gone. Using her toes, she gently placed her foot on the offending butt cheek and gave her one night stand a firm shake to wake him up. He thrashed and mumbled incoherently, but finally crawled out from under the pillow blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the light.

"Hey…. gorgeous," he said. She watched him struggle as he desperately tried to remember her name.

"Good morning," she replied as she tossed his shirt and underwear on his chest. "Um…I need to get ready to head into work soon. Do you have someplace that you need to be?" While she didn't actually have to be to work for several hours, she was trying to be as tactful as possible while asking him to leave.

"You sure you don't want to dive in for seconds?" He pulled the comforter back, taking his erection in hand and wiggling his eyebrows to her suggestively.

She swallowed the groan threatening to burst from her throat and mentally scolded herself for being so impulsive and stupid. "I think I'm going to have to pass."

"C'mon babe," he reached up and grabbed the tie of her robe, "you couldn't get enough of this dick last night."

"I said no. Now, I need you to leave…please." She could feel her face getting flushed at the irritation of the predicament she put herself in. She was never drinking again. She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath before she snatched the tie of the robe out of his hands, handed him his jeans and motioned towards the door. As Marvel walked out of her front door, he turned and pinched her nipple through her robe and said, "You just send daddy a text when you're feeling thirsty. I'm sure I can make it wet enough to quench that thirst." Then, he disappeared down the stairs leaving her standing in the doorway with her mouth hanging open and her fists balled in furious rage at her sides.

* * *

District 12 was a popular bar run by Katniss' uncle, Haymitch Abernathy. Haymitch wasn't her uncle in the biological sense. He had been her father's best friend and when her mother and father died in a car accident shortly after her 11th birthday, Haymitch stepped in as the parental figure for both Katniss and her younger sister Primrose. District 12 became a reality after Haymitch's home brewed beer, The Hob, grew in popularity throughout their small town followed by the nearby city and the entire state. He used the funds from his microbrewery to open the bar five years ago, which he was now refurbishing into a gastropub due to the growing demand for more than just drinks from his patrons. This is why Katniss was sitting in her car outside the bar at 10am on a Sunday. She nursed the iced coffee in her hands, bringing it up to her temples to try and calm the pounding in her head.

"Sweetheart! I can see you sitting in there. Get your ass out of the car and come help."

Haymitch stood in the doorway of the bar with a stained dishtowel thrown over his shoulder and sweat glistening on his brow. He had been throwing everything he had into this renovation and Katniss worried about him. Not only was he getting up there in age, but he was also a functioning alcoholic. He tried to keep it hidden but it really was one of the worst kept secrets in town. Katniss pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and stepped out of her car, still keeping a death grip on the coffee. It was mid-July and nearly 95 degrees even this early in the day. She was sure the humidity was at about 500%. Beads of sweat were already forming in her hairline.

Haymitch let out a low whistle as he sized her up. "You look like shit. Rough night?"

"And, a rough morning. Please don't ask," she said, shaking her head at the questioning look on his face.

She brushed passed him as he playfully tugged on the braid hanging over her shoulder and made her way to her favorite seat at the end of the long, mahogany bar. The cool wood felt good against her cheek as she laid her face down and closed her eyes. Haymitch pulled the sunglasses off her face and set a glass of water and two aspirin in front of her.

"Drink up. You're absolutely no good to me in your current state. I have our new chef coming in today and I need your help restocking the bar and finishing the painting in the back. If it helps, I can get you a shot. Hair of the dog and all that."

She tossed the pills in her mouth and gulped down all the water greedily. She was so thirsty and sure she had never felt this bad of a hangover. Haymitch reached for a bottle of tequila, her favorite, and a shot glass. She shook her head which caused her temples to throb violently. "No! No, more alcohol ever. Never, ever again."

Haymitch just chuckled to himself while putting the liquor and glass away. "So, what caused the bender last night?" he asked.

She sighed. "I was perfectly fine all day yesterday and then I got home and got all in my head thinking about mom and dad and Prim and…just everything. So, I called Johanna to see if she wanted to go out just for one drink." Haymitch gave her a pointed look. "I know, I know. Jo is never just a 'one drink' kind of person. I was asking for trouble. I know that now."

"Well, did you at least have fun?"

"Parts of it were fun. Other parts, not so much." She could see Haymitch itching to get more details. He thrived on helping people deal with their drama or just listening to them talk. He's probably the most popular part of District 12 and definitely one of the reasons they have so many return customers, but she had no plans on reliving the horror of that morning. "So, who's this new chef?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Some kid fresh out of culinary school. He's a damn good cook and he can make all that frilly shit people are wanting to eat while still making sure the food fits with the bar. You might know him. I think he went to school with you."

"There were a lot of people in my school, Haymitch, and I wasn't exactly a social butterfly. What's his name?"

He grabbed the resume file from under the bar and opened it quickly, "Peeta Mellark."

Katniss' stomach dropped to the ground. Of all the people who could come back into her life, Peeta Mellark was one that she thought she would never see again. He had the mix of good looks, athletic ability and charm that made him extremely popular in school. He was always surrounded by a group of people and she remembered watching them laugh and have fun. There were many days that her life was bleak and hard, despite Haymitch's best efforts, and watching him with his friends and all of their apparent sunny happiness seemed like such a stark contrast to her reality. She remembered feeling that pit in her stomach anytime she saw a pretty, popular, bubbly girl hanging on him, her arms around his waist, fingers in his wavy blonde hair or her lips on his. She had maybe spoken five words to him in her entire life, but she was adult and secure enough now to admit that what she felt in high school was definitely jealousy. She'd had a crush on Peeta Mellark. But, then again, who didn't. She had been so lost in her thoughts she didn't realize Haymitch was still talking.

"Who even names their kid Peeta, anyway? What kind of name is that? I wonder if he goes by a nickname or a middle name. I'll have to ask him."

"What kind of name is Haymitch? Or, Katniss for that matter?" Haymitch's eyebrows shot up at her outburst. "His father owned a bakery and named all of his sons after breads," she said, surprising herself and him with this detailed personal information. "Peeta was named after Pita bread, but his father thought he would be clever with the spelling so that he could be called Peet as a nickname instead of Pit…or…that's what I heard him tell someone once."

"Aha! So, you do know him!"

"No, not really. I mean…everyone we went to school with probably knows of him, but I'm sure he doesn't remember me at all," she said in a rush, her cheeks darkening slightly with embarrassment.

"Well, we'll just have to ask _Peeta_ ," he emphasized the name as a playful dig at Katniss' awkward bashfulness, "when he gets here."

"Ask me what?" a male voice asked behind her.

She turned and there he was. He wasn't very tall, maybe just a few inches taller than her, but he had a stocky, well-built frame. His hair was a little longer than she remembered and curled haphazardly across his forehead. His eyes were still a brilliant sapphire blue. It was a color she could never forget. She had never seen anything like it before or since. Even after six years, her heart still began to beat a little faster at the sight of him. She felt 17 all over again, self-conscious and shy and a little annoyed at herself for feeling this way. Then she remembered that she looked like hungover death and the feelings magnified tenfold. She unconsciously brought her hand up to straighten the flyaway wisps of hair that had escaped her braid in the humidity and heat and crinkled her nose slightly as she glanced down at her choice of an outfit. Haymitch looked on with a thoroughly amused smirk playing across his lips.

"Well, Miss 'Too Many Tequila Shots' here," Haymitch said, jerking his thumb towards Katniss, "was saying you probably didn't remember her at all."

Katniss groaned at the reference to her night of debauchery and briefly considered crawling under the barstool and willing the floor to swallow her up.

"Hey, Katniss. It's good to see you again," Peeta said shyly, ducking his head a bit. His lips pulled up in a crooked smiled that charmed her instantly and she thought she saw the beginnings of a blush forming on his cheeks. But, it was probably just from the heat. It was immensely hot in the bar all of a sudden. She took another long drink of her iced coffee.

* * *

The day ended up not being as terrible as she had imagined it would be. Peeta mostly kept to himself cleaning and setting up the newly remodeled kitchen. He was a lot quieter than she'd thought he would be although she did catch him chuckling at one or two of the things said in the banter between Haymitch and herself. She liked the sound of that chuckle and was sure that hearing a full bellied laugh from him would be quite a thing to behold. Near the end of the day, after she and Haymitch had restocked the bar, cleaned and decided – after a lengthy argument – about the placement of the tables in the now much larger dining area, Peeta joined them to help finish up the painting. Haymitch had decided on a deep forest green, which she loved and thought complimented the dark wood nicely. It'd made her think of her childhood spent with her father in the woods. It really was her favorite color and she said as much to both of them. Peeta's eyes watched her thoughtfully as she spoke, a small smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. His lips were full, but not obnoxiously so. She wondered how many lucky girls had had the chance to see what those lips felt like when pressed to their own.

"Doesn't really surprise me much, sweetheart," Haymitch said pulling her away from her preoccupation with Peeta's mouth. "You always did love the trees and the fields." His eyes went dark for just a moment and she'd known he was thinking of her father, but he'd known better than to say anything out loud. "So, boy," he continued turning towards Peeta, "Katniss has shared the deep details of her favorite color, what's yours?"

Peeta seemed shocked for a moment to be included into the conversation, but that was quickly replaced with an easy smile as he replied, "Orange."

"Orange? Like traffic cones?" she said, her nose wrinkled up in mild disgust.

He laughed and shook his head lightly as if to concede that particular orange would be the one that most people would think of. "No, not that bright. Softer, like the pale orange of a sunset."

Katniss stared at him for just a moment, the paint roller raised in mid-stroke and her mouth hanging open like a fish on a hook before she nodded her head and directed her eyes and mind back to the task at hand. She clamped her jaw shut. What was wrong with her? She never acted like this with people, especially men. In general, with the exception of Haymitch and her best friend Gale, she only really associated with men when the lonely need in her got too great. Then she would seek them out, but only for a little while until that need was fulfilled. After, she would be done and that would be the end of that. It was cold and probably a little cruel, but she had no need for relationships or romantic love in her life. She remembered the love between her mother and father. It was so powerful and so great that she didn't think anything else could match it. She watched that love disappear when they did, and the devastation it left inside of her was not something she was willing to risk feeling with another person. She already had so much love for Prim that it frightened her, and she would often wake up from nightmares of losing her sister too. So, she needed to stop looking at Peeta, with his shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes and crooked smile and toned arms that flexed in just the right way as he rolled the paint across the blank walls. Yes, she definitely needed to stop looking.

As they were preparing to leave and Katniss was already dreaming about just how much cheese would be on the pizza she planned on ordering when she got home, Peeta stated that he had come up with what he thought would be a pretty cohesive menu and wondered if either of them would be willing to do a taste testing sometime this week before he went over it with the kitchen staff and they officially reopened the bar. Katniss' stomach decided, embarrassingly, to pick that exact moment to grumble very loudly. Haymitch guffawed.

"Well, boy, I guess that answers that question for you. Honestly, she's been my judge on food for years and she has keys to this place, so I'll leave her to it. You kids make the decisions and send me the menu mockup on Thursday." He looked pointedly at both of them. "Thursday and not a day before. I'm going to take a much deserved few days off before the chaos begins again and I don't want to be bothered." He shook Peeta's hand and tugged on Katniss' braid before hopping into his old truck and driving off, leaving them both standing awkwardly on the sidewalk.

Peeta shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and Katniss cleared her throat. She couldn't have imagined anything more awkward then dinner alone with him. She dreaded it even though a small part in the back recesses of her mind lit up with something that seemed like excitement. Peeta ran his hand through his curls, causing them to stand even more on end. She bit her lip to keep a smile that threatened to spread across her face at bay. He rubbed the back of his neck and reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a phone, unlocking it and handing it to her. She looked up at him quizzically.

"Can I…um, can I have your number?" he asked. "You know, to contact you about the tasting?" He seemed flustered and chuckled quietly as he tried to hide the embarrassment she could see blazing pink across his cheeks.

She agreed, also blushing, and quickly entered her number in his contacts. She fumbled as she handed the phone back to him. A slight tremble had found its way to her hands. She shoved them in her pockets. A few seconds later she felt her own phone vibrate as he sent her text.

"Well, this is me," he said, hooking his thumb towards a black Jeep. "It really is great to see you again, Katniss. Kind of blowing my mind a little bit, but definitely great."

She hesitated as she processed this information. Blowing his mind? Her? Her palms felt sweaty all of the sudden and her heart was raced while she tried to keep up with the thoughts that swirled around in her head.

"Thanks, Peeta. Just text me with the info on the tasting." It came out more clipped and brusque than she had intended, and she cringed slightly before adding, "It was really great to see you again too."

He nodded his head, smiled that easy, crooked smile and turned to get into his Jeep and drive away. Once enclosed in her own car, she leaned her forehead on the steering wheel and inhaled a deep, steading breath, releasing it slowly. That helped. She just needed to call the pizza place, then turn up the radio and drive home with the windows down. She unlocked her phone and swiped the notification to open Peeta's text in order to add him to her contact list. She slowly cocked her head to the side in confusion as she read the text.

 _Hey. This is Peeta. You know, that dorky kid who had a crush on you in school :)_

WHAT?! He had to have been making a lighthearted joke, trying to ease the tension they had found themselves in standing on that sidewalk. There was no possible way he had a crush on her. They never even spoke to each other in school. He barely made eye contact with her in passing and he was always surrounded by pretty, shapely, popular girls. Girls with silky, beautiful hair in vibrant shades that flowed easily across their shoulders and down their backs. Girls with smooth hands and manicured fingernails that had never seen manual labor. Girls with long legs, full hips and round breasts. Girls who could easily carry on a conversation and laugh freely with their higher pitched, singsong voices. Girls that were everything that she wasn't.

She stared at the words on the screen for several minutes. She didn't know how to respond or if she should even respond. The mental back and forth was draining and she was already tired and hungry, not to mention still ridiculously hungover. Finally, she decided that to just ignore it would be the best way to proceed.

 _Hey. I'm free Tuesday and Wednesday for the tasting if that works for you. Let me know._

She quickly dialed her favorite pizzeria. She placed her order, pocketed her phone and headed home. She needed food, Netflix and a shower. She really needed to stop thinking about Peeta Mellark, but she didn't think that was going to be such an easy thing to do.

* * *

They decided to meet on Tuesday night in order to give Peeta a full day to finalize the menu before presenting it to Haymitch for printing. This gave Katniss almost 48 hours to work out dozens of scenarios in which this meal alone with Peeta would end in absolute disaster. She would inevitably say or do something that would send him running for the door and they would be out a chef. Haymitch would be furious. She'd have to find another job and another apartment because she wouldn't be able to afford this one without the tips she made working at District 12. And Prim…Prim would have to leave her Ivy League school that Haymitch was able to help fund only due to the popularity of The Hob and the bar.

It was nearly noon on Tuesday and Katniss was still lying face down on her bed. She had stayed up too late the night before unable to turn her mind off as she dreaded this day alone with Peeta. She was usually such an early riser. She had been since her parents had died and she had to be up early enough to get both Prim and herself ready for school, which included packing lunches and getting something out to make for dinner. Haymitch tried, he really did, but he was shit when it came to basic household necessities like cooking and cleaning. So, these responsibilities fell on Katniss' small 11-year-old shoulders and she did them every day without complaint. She had a strong determination to give Prim the best life she could despite everything that had happened, and Katniss was strong willed and stubborn to a fault. Once she had decided that Prim deserved every opportunity life offered, she worked to the bone to give her those opportunities. Now, her baby sister was in one of the country's top schools studying to be a doctor. There were times, on exceptionally bad days, when Katniss would wallow in the current state of her life. She was 24, terminally single, living in a tiny apartment. She barely passed high school, although that had nothing to do with her intelligence and more to do with the lack of time she had available to study. She was a server in a bar with no real prospects of achieving anything more in life. But, on those days, thinking of everything Prim was achieving and experiencing would lessen the sting. She would gladly give up anything to make sure Prim had everything.

She groaned and rolled out of bed, walking the short distance to her kitchen/bathroom to make coffee. Leaning against the counter with a steaming mug, she pulled her phone out to see texts from both Gale and Jo. She had talked to them both earlier, hoping to solicit some honest and real advice on Peeta.

 _Jo: He sounds hot af! You better tap that and then give me deets. Don't be a pussy, brainless!_

 _Gale: You're probably overthinking Catnip. You ALWAYS do._

She sighed. Jo's response didn't really surprise her, she was never the type to wax sentimental and honestly believed all problems could be resolved with sex. Gale's rang more true. She did always overthink things, almost to a point of blinding herself to the obvious. If this was the case, then the most obvious answer was that Peeta was just a nice guy who was also very attractive, and Katniss was lonely, so she was seeing more into it than was really there. She just needed to get out of her own head. She squared her shoulders resolutely. She was a grown woman. She wasn't some awkward teenager anymore. She had a life, albeit not an amazing life, that she had worked hard to build. She had nothing to feel insecure about.

* * *

She was twenty minutes late. In all of her earlier bravado, she still stood in the doorway of her closet unsure of what exactly to wear. Was this just a business meeting? Was this sort of like a date? Should she just wear her casual everyday clothes or make a little more effort? In the end, she chose the 'more effort' route and then scoffed at her reflection in the mirror. She threw on a pair of skinny jeans, one of her favorite dark gray t-shirts, and her most comfortable boots. She pulled her hair into its normal braid and at the last minute decided to add some mascara and nude lip gloss, although she rolled her eyes at herself as she did it.

Peeta was waiting outside District 12's front door when she pulled up. He leaned idly against the brick wall, a black messenger bag at his feet and a notebook and pencil in his hands. His hand moved quickly over the page and his brow furrowed in concentration. He didn't hear her get out of her car or approach and she took a second to watch him. Even with the concentration visible on his face, he looked at peace, a small smile on his lips and light in his eyes. She cleared her throat and his head shot up, the smile growing large and bright. She couldn't help but smile back and hoped that it didn't come off looking as strained as it felt.

"I'm sorry I'm late. There was…traffic," she lied.

He cocked his head slightly to the side as if he didn't believe her, but let it go, the smile never disappearing. "I didn't mind and you're not really that late anyway. Sometimes it's nice to get a couple minutes to yourself that you're not expecting."

Her eyes shifted to the notebook in his hands, but he closed it quickly before she is able to see what he had been working on and stuffed it in his bag. She unlocked the door and they both entered the dark empty bar. She always thought it looked so strange empty, all the chairs and barstools flipped upside down on the tables, their footsteps echoing off the walls. Standing in the space without all the chatter and noise and bodies made her feel small and intensely alone. She shivered. Peeta's hand touched her shoulder gently sending a wave of warmth through her.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

She shook her head ducking away from his touch as she headed towards the kitchen. "So, you ready to show me this amazing menu?" she called back to him.

"I don't know about amazing, but I'll do my best. I hope you brought your appetite."

She smirked. "I always bring my appetite. Food and I have a very close relationship. Don't let his small body fool you. I can eat with the best of them."

He shook his head and laughed, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. "Challenge accepted," he said with a wink.

He set to work and soon the kitchen was filled with the most delicious smells. Katniss' mouth watered, and her stomach grumbled its consent. In all of the preparation and worry, she had forgotten to eat anything and now she was absolutely starving. She was perched on the edge of a butcher block table located in the back of the kitchen, nursing a cold beer and watching Peeta work. He had removed the dark blue button down he had arrived in and replaced it with a black chef's jacket that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He chattered on while he cooked, talking about ingredients and farm markets and cooking techniques. She nodded her head trying desperately to pay attention but failing miserably. The amount of energy he put into his cooking and the heat of the kitchen had caused him to begin to sweat and she watched with rapt attention as a bead of sweat slid behind his ear and over the tendons of his neck to his back. The ends of his hair curled with the heat and the moisture and she had a sudden, overwhelming desire to run her hands through it. She clenched the table with her free hand to counteract this, all the while mentally reprimanding herself for feeling this way. What was it about him that made her react like this?

He had continued speaking, oblivious to her open gawking and she realized that he must have asked her a question because he had turned towards her, hands still in a bowl of greens, with gentle, friendly eyes awaiting an answer. Shit. She had stopped paying attention to his words at least five minutes ago and had no clue what he had asked.

"I'm…um…I'm sorry?" she stuttered, lifting the beer to her lips in an attempt to cover her embarrassment.

"I was just curious if you still spent any time with anyone from school."

"Just Gale."

"Oh," he said with a quick nod of his head like he was agreeing with some question she wasn't aware of. His eyes returned to his work and he was quiet again. She didn't understand the change in his behavior and desperately searched for something to say to elevate the tension that had replaced their relaxed conversation.

"Well, I also spend time…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

They spoke over each other then stopped. A laugh escaped her lips and the easy smile returned to his. He nodded in her direction letting her start again.

"I was just going to say that I also spend time with Madge still too. It's almost hard not to if I want to see Gale nowadays." He looked up from the workstation, eyebrows raised in question. "Oh! They got married in September. I thought you knew! Your brother, Rye, was at the ceremony."

Peeta's eyes dropped back down to his work again and he shook his head. "No. I…I haven't spoken to Rye in…in a while."

There was a story here that she was missing. The Mellark brothers had always seemed close, so for Peeta to say he hadn't spoken to his brother meant that something had happened. She was curious but didn't want to pry into things that had nothing to do with her. Now that she thought about it, Peeta and his oldest brother hadn't been at the wedding even though his parents and Rye were there. Since Madge was the Mayor's daughter, the entire town had been invited. Katniss hadn't noticed Peeta's absence at the time, but he had moved away very soon after graduation, so it wasn't all that unusual that he wouldn't have been in attendance. However, it was odd that he was completely in the dark about Gale and Madge being married or together at all.

She sipped her beer again, clearing her throat and searching for something to say to change the topic. She was horrible at saying things and wished she could erase the last ten minutes of time away. They had been having a surprisingly good time. Peeta was a born conversationalist and she found herself answering most of his questions with ease and being interested in what he had to say, when she wasn't ogling him, of course. It wasn't really a surprise to her when he was the one who broke the awkward silence by carrying a tray full of plates to the table and stating, with a wink, "Who's hungry?"

Peeta had made an assortment of dishes. He wasn't kidding about bringing a big appetite. There was a burger and several different types of sandwiches, short ribs, different types of salads, cooked vegetables in light tempura batter, fish dishes and pasta dishes. He motioned for her to eat and turned to head back to the workstation.

"Wait! Aren't you going to eat too?" she asked, her hand coming up to cover her mouth full of food.

"I will. I just have to put the finishing touches on these desserts."

Desserts too?! She didn't know how she was going to eat everything that was laid out for her, but whatever he was working on smelled heavenly and she wanted to make sure she had room to at least taste it. Overwhelmed by the choices, the smells and the plating, she decided to try a small sample of everything rather than trying to eat each plate in its entirety. Peeta rejoined her and he nibbled at some of the dishes while watching her as she ate. She moaned almost comically when she bit into his grilled cheese sandwich. She had never tasted anything like it. There was a type of cheese she hadn't tasted before and some sort of bacon sauce and maybe…basil? She loved cheese. She remembered visiting the Mellark bakery as a kid with her dad and he would get cheese buns to take home for dinner. They were her favorite, until she tasted this grilled cheese.

She looked up, embarrassed by her vocal approval of the food, but Peeta was staring at her with a look of pure awe and amazement on his face. His cheeks were a little pink and she didn't know if that was due to the heat or something else.

"This," she said waving the sandwich in her hand, "is amazing. Is this bacon and basil?"

His cheeks grew a dark shade of red at the compliment. "Yes, it's bacon jam and basil. There's also monterey jack and gruyere cheese."

"Amazing. Truly, Peeta, everything here is so good. People will absolutely love it. I say yes to everything. I'll have to talk to Haymitch and see if we can maybe think up a few new cocktails that we can pair with some of the dishes too."

"Don't forget dessert," he said while moving to retrieve the dishes. "There's only two, but I figured that there didn't need to be a huge dessert list for a pub atmosphere."

He placed a warm bread pudding filled with apples, bourbon and caramel on the table, also adding a chocolate cake made with 12 thin layers that had chocolate mousse in between and fudge icing dripping from the top. Katniss felt herself starting to tear up a little at all of this wonderful food, the desserts in particular. There was a time not too long ago when she and Prim existed on bologna sandwiches and boxed mac and cheese. Haymitch worked long hours when both girls were young and Katniss, being barely old enough to cook, picked things to make that were simple and cheap to buy. So, seeing this rich, decadent food made with such skill and obvious care, overwhelmed her nearly to tears. She sucked these tears back. People don't see her cry. She hadn't cried in years.

The desserts tasted as good as they looked, and she leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face, once she's finished. Peeta rose and began clearing the dishes and cleaning, shooing her away when she tried to help. She watched him as he moved methodically from station to station, rinsing the dishes and placing them in the industrial washer. She'd never met a man like him before and she felt as drawn to his presence as she did when she was a teenager. She assumed back then that everyone felt that way about Peeta, and maybe they did. He just had that way about him but sitting in the kitchen watching him finish his work, she wondered if maybe the insistent pull she feels towards him might not be just because he has that effect on people. Maybe, this feeling was meant only for her. Maybe he felt something similar towards her too.

She shook her head, scolding herself for her ridiculous thoughts. He couldn't possibly think that way about her. He probably has some incredibly beautiful girlfriend or fiancée, like all of the girls that used to hang on him in school. A girl who loves his cooking and fuels his ambitions. A girl that jumps into his strong arms when she sees him and runs her fingers through his unruly hair, placing gentle kisses along his strong jaw then claiming those pink lips. They probably make love to each other, holding on desperately in the night, and wake up in the morning happy, content and so in love. A sigh escaped her lips. _Stop it Katniss_ she thought. She knew she was just lonely. That's all it was. She thought that maybe should get a cat.

"So, I'll get the menu completely nailed down and drop it off at Haymitch's on Thursday," Peeta said, picking up his messenger bag and startling her out of her reverie.

Nodding in agreement, she checked the time on her phone. Only 9:30PM. She didn't feel like going back to her empty apartment just yet, but it was a Tuesday night, what else was there to do? Maybe she could call Jo and see if she wanted to come over and watch a movie with her. No, that wouldn't work. Jo, left to visit her family yesterday. This renovation had given all of the servers and bartenders more downtime then they were used to, and Johanna was one of the best bartenders around.

"Well, um…ok, then. Thank you again for the wonderful food," she said, stuffing the phone into her back pocket and leading the way out of the kitchen to the front door. Peeta followed her out onto the sidewalk and waited as she locked the door. He shifted anxiously beside her. She could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he debated with himself over what to say next.

"Would you like to go someplace with me," he asked in a breathless rush.

"Yes," she replied immediately.

* * *

His black Jeep pulled into an overgrown dirt pathway, the headlights shining on an old rusty mailbox labeled "Trinket." They had been riding in companionable silence for nearly a half an hour, but the curiosity was overwhelming her, and she couldn't help it when she asked, "Where are we going?"

"My favorite place. I haven't been here since I was a kid. This land belongs to my mother's family. Trinket is my aunt's married name. She lived here until her husband died. She still owns the property though and she wouldn't mind if we visited."

Katniss raised her eyebrows skeptically. She knew about Peeta's mother, or at least what the rumors had told her. All three of the Mellark boys had been prone to showing up to school with black eyes, bruises and scars. These could and would be easily explained away by their mother who told people that the boys played too rough or that working in a bakery meant you got the occasional burn scar. All of these things had the probability of being true and no one ever questioned her, but whispered rumors were still murmured about how she ruled her home with an iron fist and was never afraid to bring that fist down on one of her sons.

Peeta smiled at her expression, a throaty chuckle escaping. "Trust me, Katniss. She wouldn't mind. She would welcome it probably. I bet no one has even been out here since she left."

"I trust you." The words had left her without hesitation and she clamped her mouth closed. She barely knew him, but just being with him made her feel safer than she had felt in so long. He steered the Jeep down the bumpy path, past a shuttered, forgotten two story white house with a wraparound porch, past an old clapboard work shed and into the trees. She rolled the window down letting the smell of the woods envelope her. She hadn't visited the woods much, not since her parents died. It was the special place her father took her. Where he taught her about silence, stealth and patience. Beneath the canopy of leaves she felt like she could breathe again, and she did, taking in a deep, cleansing breath and letting it out slowly. She closed her eyes, blocking out everything, all of the pain and the loneliness, all of the mistakes she has made and everything she has given up or lost. It all disappeared until there was nothing left but her and the trees.

The Jeep rolled to a slow stop and she opened her eyes. They were parked on the bank of a beautiful lake. The water rippled and shimmered in the moonlight. Without thinking, she opened the car door and stepped out onto the soft ground. She found some large, flat rocks near the water's edge and sat down. Peeta joined her. They were silent for a while, enjoying the warm summer air, the water's sparkling surface and the closeness of each other.

"This is…I don't even have words to describe it. Thank you, Peeta," she whispered.

She turned to look at him and he was watching her so carefully, studying her almost and she could tell he was paying attention to everything. He saw all of the little details, all the flaws and imperfections. It would be unnerving if it were someone else, but strangely, with him it had the opposite effect. It calmed her and grounded her to the moment.

"Beautiful," he murmured before catching himself and turning away.

Even in the darkness, she could see the color flooding his light skin.

"I remember," he began, staring out at the lake, "the first time I saw you. Your hair was in two braids instead of one and you were wearing this red plaid dress. You stuck out to me because you didn't look like anyone in my family. We were all blonde with blue eyes and fair skin and you were dark in the loveliest way. I remember you looked right at me and even at that young age, I was transfixed by your eyes. I had never seen that color before. Then, you sang, and I was sure you were an angel. I ran home to tell my parents and my brothers that I had seen an angel and they laughed at me. My mother, she…punished me for making up stories and lying."

He paused, turning to look at her. His eyes shone with emotion and sheepishness. "I hope you don't think I'm creepy. I just needed to tell you that I remember you. You are the first thing I remember seeing and being struck by its beauty and I wanted to share this," he gestured to the lake, "with you because it's beautiful too."

She didn't know what to say. She wanted to protest and tell him she wasn't beautiful, but doing that would ruin this moment, ruin the truth that he had just laid bare to her. The only thing she could think to say was, "Thank you." She was thankful for the moment, thankful for the spectacular lake and the drive through the trees, thankful for the serenity he offered and for making her feel as beautiful as his description.

With a deep sigh, he rose to his feet, reaching out a hand to her. "We should probably go." She nodded in agreement, reached for his hand and gasped at the spark of electricity that coursed through her at his touch. Walking back to the Jeep with her hand clasped firmly in his, she had the sudden urge to grab him and pull his lips to hers. To take him back to her small apartment and have her way with him, only to dismiss him in the morning like she always did. But, underneath that urge she felt another desire growing, a deeper and more meaningful longing. She wanted to do something she hadn't done before. She wanted to take her time and watch and wait. She wanted to see how this unfolded. She wanted to feel the longing, the want to have him until it set her on fire. And, then, if he felt it too, they could burn together and maybe light up each other's worlds.


	2. Lost and Found

**A/N: So, first I have to apologize to anyone who favorited or followed this. I know it has been FOREVER since I posted the initial chapter for this story. My life took a surprising twist a month after I originally posted and I found out that I was pregnant. Well, that ended up sucking all the brain cells out of my head and I had the worst writers block. Now that my little one is a year old and I feel like I can think again, I wanted to come back to this story. It was never my intention to abandon it and thoughts and ideas for it have popped up over time. I hope there is still interest in it, but even if there isn't, I plan to finish it anyway.**

 **Thank you so much for reading! I apologize for any grammatical mistakes :)**

* * *

 _Peeta_

The noises of a kitchen were soothing. The clanging of pots and pans, the voices, the rhythmic chopping of knives. He'd always felt strangely calm in a kitchen, even when they were deep in the weeds and the sweat was pouring off of him from concentration and exertion. He was born into a kitchen though and it was all he'd ever known. Maybe a kitchen reminded him of home. That feeling was no different for him on the night that District 12 reopened. The line to get in stretched around the building. People were excited to try the new dining experience and to taste the food of their own local chef.

The kitchen was a frantic swirl of motion. They were in the weeds, very deep in the weeds, but that wasn't all that surprising. The kitchen was new, the staff were new, and everyone was filled with first night jitters. Servers were yelling complaints about returned dishes. Thresh, his sous chef, barked orders down the line. The cooks mumbled their assent with eyes down focusing on the tasks at hand. Peeta looked at the downtrodden faces. They had all wanted to make a spectacular splash on their opening night and customer complaints were slowly eating away at the earlier enthusiasm. He spied Katniss, standing against the wall behind the other servers waiting for her dishes and chewing on her bottom lip. Her eyes darted around the kitchen nervously. He had to do something. He needed to pull this together. This was his kitchen now, his responsibility.

"Alright," he said loudly, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention, "we've got this. The night is still early. Yes, a couple dishes have come back, but you were each hired because you are skilled and talented. Don't let a few mistakes get to your head. Mistakes happen. You can do this. We can do this. Now, let's get it together and make this the best fucking dining experience this town has ever seen!"

He clapped his hands again, sneaking a look over at Katniss. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth making her face light up in the most beautiful way. She carried a worried expression or scowl more often than not and seeing her smile, and knowing that he put that smile there, sent a thrill through him. He hurriedly made a few adjustments with the staff and food preparation and then returned to help expedite the orders out of the kitchen. Katniss made her way towards him and grabbed her finished dishes. A tendril of hair had worked its way out of her braid and fell gently across the side of her face. He yearned to touch it and tuck it behind her ear, gently brushing her cheek. Instead, he ducked his head slightly and let go of the plates watching her walk from the kitchen.

Meeting her again didn't go exactly like he had hoped. He had wanted to seem more confident, well-spoken, funny and charming instead of the terrified, nervous mess he had ended up being. He had talked too much and stared at her too long and then, at the lake he had told her that story of when he first saw her. It had probably been confusing for her. It was confusing for him. The truth was, they hardly knew each other, but he had wished every day since he first met her that he could really know Katniss Everdeen. He'd had some sunny, idealistic picture in his head of how seeing her again would go. He would walk into District 12 and instantly charm her with his wit, his words and his food. She would be as head over heels as he was. Who was he kidding? He knew better. Life wasn't like that. It had twists and turns and unthinkable horrors and, sometimes, if you're lucky, unimaginable bliss. He hadn't found the bliss yet for himself, but he had heard others talk about it. So, he kept hope hidden away in his heart that one day he would find it too.

* * *

There was a time, although it seemed like forever ago to him now, when happiness was all that he knew. He was a chubby, joyful boy living in a house filled with sugar, flour, butter and chocolate. He would climb up on his father's lap and place his small hands on his father's large, warm ones, closing his eyes to memorize the feel and movements as his father would knead bread. If he closed his eyes now, he still felt it. Around his fifth birthday, the sounds of laughter and running and little boys playing together on the living room floor were replaced with silence and whispers and fear. He didn't remember why it changed, only that the air in the house became thick and pain became an intimate companion.

The first time his mother struck him, he had been with his middle brother, Rye, and they had gotten too rambunctious, giggling and playing with their toy cars on the bedroom floor. His mother had been napping and they must have awoken her because she stormed into the room, grabbed him by his arm, twisting it painfully behind his back and smacked him open palmed across his face. The force of the blow left him with a bloodied, swollen lip for nearly a week. As the years progressed, she learned how to intensify and perfect the beatings, both verbal and physical, and he learned what to do to incur the least amount of her wrath as possible.

He quickly figured how to compartmentalize his life; the kind of person to be for his mother, for his friends and for people in his professional life. They all required a different version of him and he found that he could migrate between the versions easily. He knew how to be quiet and hidden for his mother, how to be loud, charming and funny for his friends, and how to be aggressive and driven professionally. Each version held pieces of him, but never the entirety of the person he felt like inside, the person he truly wanted to be, the person he had always wanted to show Katniss.

He had her number and he could call or text her, but he didn't. She had been so quiet on their drive back from the lake. He had been self-conscious about sharing the story of how he first saw her, a story he hadn't planned on sharing, so he was silent too. When he dropped her back off at her car, she'd hesitated for just a moment, looking at him and opening her mouth to speak, but then she'd only smiled, thanked him again and left. He'd driven back home with his mother's voice ringing in his head calling him "pathetic" and "weak," growing more agitated by the minute. This wasn't who he was anymore.

He'd spent years working on himself, building his self-confidence, finding things he loved to do and excelling at them, creating and expressing himself like he'd never been able to before. That was, of course, until he'd walked into that bar and saw her face again, those stormy eyes staring straight through him. In that moment, all of the years of work and the life he had struggled and fought to create for himself were gone. He had looked at her and forgotten how to breathe. He'd struggled to keep up with the things Haymitch had been saying and stayed in the kitchen an hour longer than he'd needed too just so he could wrap his mind around everything. Somehow, he had managed to pull it together, at least he could breathe easier knowing that she had liked the food and that the menu would hopefully be a success.

* * *

Haymitch had given him a lot of freedom in setting up the kitchen and hiring staff. Peeta knew exactly who he'd need to make sure the kitchen ran like a well-oiled machine; Thresh. He had met Thresh three years ago when they both worked at The Seam, an up and coming restaurant in New Orleans. Thresh was reserved and quiet outside of the kitchen, but inside, he had a presence that commanded respect and he always got the best out of the people around him. He was also an exceptionally good chef and someone Peeta could call a friend. He'd really needed a friend. Being back home was emotionally draining on him and even though Thresh was never one for words, just being around him had put Peeta at ease.

He still dreamed of New Orleans; the music, the people, the food, the fragrant flowers in the courtyard behind his Aunt Effie's double gallery house. The sun setting in Jackson Square. On extremely lucky nights, those beautiful images and sounds would carry him through until morning and he would wake up to a room bathed in sunlight. Those were not typical dreams and he held them close to his heart, like surprise gifts from an old, dear friend. On most nights, he'd close his eyes dreading what would come; the feel of the road rushing up to meet him, blood on his hands and under his fingernails, his shoe lying in a field far ahead of him, the blinding glare of flashing lights, the wail of sirens, the sound of his voice screaming for help. He would jolt awake to a dark room on nights like this, covered in cold sweat as hot tears streaked down his cheeks.

* * *

"Hey, Blondie! Come out with us!" Johanna yelled into the kitchen from where she stood behind the empty bar.

Peeta smiled. She had taken to calling him Blondie, but she'd seemed to have a nickname for all of the people that she liked, so he took it as a compliment. It was just after midnight. The restaurant had closed for the night over an hour ago and he had let everyone go home, finishing the prep for the next day himself. They were all exhausted, but triumphant. Despite the rocky start, they had pulled off a great first night service.

"Oh, Blondie," Johanna's singsong voice floated through the kitchen.

She stood in the door with an impish smile on her face and a glint in her eye. She was petite, but athletically built with short, spikey hair and wide eyes. She ran her bar with authority and the customers loved her snarky attitude. She would take absolutely no shit from anyone and Peeta liked that about her. She walked up behind him and he felt her fingers dancing across his back until they found purchase on his shoulders. She stood on her tiptoes and leaned into his ear.

"The night is young and so are we. Come out with us! All work and no play makes Peeta a dull boy."

"Okay," he chuckled, shaking his head. "But, don't even think about trying to get me drunk and taking advantage of me."

He turned his head towards her, raising his eyebrow, a smirk ghosted across his lips. She threw back her head and laughed loudly, coming around him and hopping up to sit on the workstation. She pulled one of his curls, letting it spring back into shape against the side of his head.

"Oh, don't worry, Blondie. You're not my type," she said, giving his crotch a pointed look and winking. "I like them with a lot less dick and a lot more tits." She waggled her eyebrows at him. "Besides, you definitely couldn't handle me."

This time it was his turn to laugh. "Oh, don't be so sure," he said, eyes glinting mischievously. "I could make a convert out of you yet."

She hopped down from the counter, swatting his ass as she headed out into the dining room. "You wouldn't be the first one to try. Now, come on and let's get the fuck out of here!"

Shouts and applause of approval from the group waiting in the dining room rang through the air. He quickly put away the last of the prep, finished cleaning and pulled off his chef's jacket and sweaty undershirt, thankful that he had thought to put an extra shirt and deodorant in his bag before coming in. He pulled the fresh shirt over his head and headed out the front door.

* * *

He was lost. He had grown up in this town and he still didn't have any idea where he was. Johanna had handed him a crudely drawn map on a cocktail napkin with directions printed on the back and then he watched as everyone had gotten into their cars and driven off. He had wondered just exactly where they would be "going out" to because as far as he knew the only bar in town was District 12. His car moved at a crawl down the dark country road. He cursed under his breath and wondered why in the hell these roads never had streetlights when he finally found the lane described in Jo's hastily written directions.

The well-worn grassy lane opened up to a large field. A bonfire burned near the center with cars and trucks circled around it. As Peeta approached, he scanned the field for any sign of a house and saw nothing but trees. As soon as he stepped out of his Jeep, he was nearly knocked to the ground as Jo's body sailed through the air towards him. He caught her easily and she locked her legs around his waist, handing him a plastic cup half filled with beer.

"You made it!" She exclaimed. "We thought we may have had lost you to the deep, dark back roads."

"You almost did," he chuckled. "Where are we anyway?"

"This, my dear, sweet, blonde friend is a field," she smirked. He rolled his eyes laughing and helped her back down to the ground. "This property is owned by somebody famous," she said conspiratorially, "but don't worry, I've made a few friends and we're allowed to be here. This is where all the misfits and weirdos hang out. So, what do you say? Care to join the party?"

She held out her hand and he accepted it, letting her weave him through the parked cars to the crowd gathered around the bonfire. Someone had music blaring out of their car speakers and people moved around him laughing, dancing and drinking. Johanna introduced him to some people and others that worked at District 12 waved in his direction. He saw Thresh and a couple members of his kitchen staff. He lifted the beer in his hands to his lips. The amber liquid sat on his tongue and he savored the taste. He hadn't had a beer since New Orleans. He hadn't had a lot of things since then.

He followed the sound of laughter and saw Katniss with her head thrown back, clutching her sides. He felt his stomach flop. She was so beautiful when she laughed. She was perched in a lawn chair next to Gale Hawthorne.

Great.

He and Gale had never really been friends. Gale was a couple years older and in the same class as his brother, Rye, and they clashed like oil and water. It didn't really surprise Peeta. Rye could be sarcastic and abrasive and if you didn't understand him or his sense of humor it had the effect of rubbing people the wrong way. There was a distinct possibility that Gale thought Peeta was similar, especially when Peeta saw the annoyed expression that briefly flashed across Gale's face as he approached them.

"Peeta! Oh my god!" Madge jumped out of her seat next to Gale and rushed towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. They had been friends in school and since his father was a prominent business owner and her father was the mayor, they had grown up together. It had been years since he'd seen her last, but she still looked the same as he remembered, all elegant beauty and blonde curls. Actually, he thought she had looked better than his memory. Marriage suited her. She had a stunned expression on her face, but her eyes flashed the briefest glimpse of pain as she looked him over.

"You look really great, Peeta," she said as she cupped his face gently in her hands. "I didn't know what to expect when I heard, especially after what happened to –" She stopped abruptly, wincing slightly and clearing her throat. Panicked, he chanced a side glance at Katniss, but she didn't seem to catch on to what Madge had said.

"You look pretty amazing yourself," he said, desperate to change the subject. "I hear that congratulations are in order!"

She smiled widely at him and it lit up her entire face. "Thank you! I wish you could have been there. It wasn't the same without you and I was really hoping you would be able to make the cake, but your dad did a beautiful job."

He turned and held his hand out in greeting to Gale and caught Katniss' eye with a shy smile. Madge pulled him down into the seat beside Katniss all but commanding him to sit with them. Gale shifted uncomfortably in his chair giving Madge a pointed look which she returned unfazed while mouthing "Don't be an asshole."

"So…Peeta, what have you been up to?" Gale asked while still glaring at Madge. "How's that dickhead brother of yours?"

Madge tried unsuccessfully to discreetly elbow him in the side while faking a cough, but Katniss saw the exchange. Peeta watched as her eyes narrowed and her head turned between his and Gale's faces. Her hand flexed around the cup she was holding. A scowl replaced the toothy grin he had seen on her just moments before. He panicked. His brain reeled trying to figure out a way to break the sudden tension and change the subject. He couldn't believe Gale had brought up his brother because if Madge knew what had happened then Gale surely did too.

Luckily, Johanna's sense timing was impeccable. She sidled up to the group completely ignorant of the growing discomfort and sat on Gale's lap with her legs thrown across Madge's thighs. She laid her head on his chest and gave him her best woeful, doe-eyed expression.

"When are you going to let me have a chance with your beautiful bride?" She crooned and winked at him. "I'd even be willing to let you watch."

He immediately perked up, giving Madge a sidelong glance. She threw back her head in laughter. "Keep dreaming, buddy," she said while playfully tickling Gale's side and then as an afterthought and with a devious glint in her eye, she leaned and kissed Johanna full on the lips.

Katniss' jaw dropped open and Gale sat there stunned with a cheesy smile spreading across his face. People in the crowd whooped and cheered. Peeta chuckled into his beer as he drank another bitter mouthful. Madge pulled back from Johanna's lips and everyone around them broke out in applause. Johanna jumped to her feet dragging Madge with her and pulled her into a friendly hug. The two women laughed lightheartedly, and Johanna kissed Madge on the cheek before pumping her fist in the air in mock celebration. Madge caught Peeta's eye behind Johanna's back and quickly gave him a knowing look. It was then that he realized that she planted the kiss and caused the commotion for him. Relief flooded over him. The previous conversation had all been forgotten now. He relaxed back into his chair bringing his cup back up to his lips and made a mental note to thank Madge later.

* * *

The beat of the music and the cacophony of noise from the party still played in his head as he drove away from the hidden field. His hands had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. He had only had three beers, but it had been a while since he had consumed any alcohol, so those beers were enough to lower his guard and fill his body with a pleasantly numb sensation. He had to pay attention to the road. Adrenaline course through his veins. His heart pounded in his chest. He cursed under his breath and flexed his fingers reminding himself that he wasn't drunk, and he could drive.

A quiet snore drifted over from his right. Katniss was slumped in the passenger seat, her cheek pressed against the glass of the window, her eyes closed, small wisps of air escaped her closed lips. Madge and Johanna had pled with Peeta to drive her home when it was obvious that she shouldn't be driving herself. Gale had lifted her up and carried her to Peeta's Jeep when she had refused and tried to get behind the wheel of her own car. That was how he found himself navigating the desolate small-town roads to Katniss Everdeen's apartment at 4AM.

He pulled up behind a brick building two blocks from his family's bakery. The building used to belong to hair salon but was now a Chinese take-out restaurant. The neon sign in the storefront glowed _Capitol Takeout_ onto the sidewalk and street. There were several windows located on the second and third floor that he assumed must belong to apartments. After a few minutes of searching he found a large metal door on the side of the building with faded, peeling stickers labeled "Resident." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. The edges of sleep were starting to close in on him. It had been a long stressful day followed by an eventful night. He didn't know how he was still functioning. With the combination of alcohol and exhaustion, he knew he shouldn't drive home. He decided to sleep in his car although he knew that would be severely uncomfortable and a decision he would regret as he was standing in the kitchen again that evening. But, first, he needed to get Katniss up to her apartment.

He whispered her name and gently shook her shoulder, but she didn't move. Speaking louder, he said her name again and brushed the stray locks of hair from her face. She made a muffled sound in the back of her throat and leaned into his hand. She cracked an eyelid, looking at him through a sleep and alcohol induced fog. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly in a smile.

"Hey," she croaked, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey. You're home. We need to get you upstairs."

She nodded and pulled her body upright weaving slightly. Peeta reached his hand out to steady her and then made the decision that she wasn't in any shape to walk. Exiting the car, he made his way around to the passenger side and easily lifted her into his arms. Even though she was slim, the extra weight coupled with the long hours on his feet had his left knee aching. He would need to wear his brace tomorrow. He briefly wondered if anyone would be able to tell he had it on under his work pants. It didn't matter. He'd never make it through the day without it. So be it if anyone noticed. He would lie if he had to and say it was from an old sports injury. No one would question that.

He willed his tired, aching body forward, through the labeled metal door and up a flight of narrow wooden stairs. He paused at the top and looked down at Katniss waiting for her instructions. Her eyes were shut but he could tell she wasn't sleeping. She pointed down the dimly lit corridor. "Thirteen," she muttered. As he carried her towards the door at the far end of the hall, she reached into the back pocket of her jeans pulling out a set of keys. He deposited her gently on her feet, waiting by the door to make sure she made it inside safely before he returned to his car. She fumbled with the keys finally unlocking the door after a few unsuccessful attempts. She wondered inside leaving the door hanging open. He hesitated unsure whether to close the door for her or leave it open in case she returned to close it herself. Ultimately, he decided to just close the door. She probably didn't realize she had left it open. He stepped inside her apartment reaching for the door handle when he heard her voice from somewhere deeper inside.

"Are you coming or not?"

He stopped dead in his tracks, his fingers still wrapped around the brass knob of the door. His brain was too foggy to figure out a reply. His heart had suddenly started to hammer in his chest.

"Peeta, shut the door and come on," her muffled voice said.

Too perplexed by what was happening and too tired – and honestly still buzzed from the beer - to argue, he softly closed the door and ventured into the apartment. He stood in the small but tidy kitchen with its short countertop and compact appliances waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He heard Katniss sigh heavily and followed the sound into a slightly larger room with an open doorway on his right. The larger room had a worn loveseat, a comfortable looking overstuffed chair and a bookcase with a small TV resting on top. He assumed the doorway to the right must be the bedroom. His palms started to sweat.

His eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness by the time he made it to the bedroom doorway. They followed the trail of discarded clothing until they landed on Katniss' topless form. She was on her back, clothed only in her panties, with her legs dangling over the side of the bed and her elbows propped up behind her to support her upper body. Her head snapped up at his arrival, her eyes finding his. Her dark tresses, free from their normal braid, cascaded down her back. She sat up on the bed and he tried not to look, tried to preserve some modesty for her but he couldn't help himself. She was so beautiful, and he had thought of her like this so many times. He drank in the sight of her. Her small but perfectly shaped breasts. The tautness of her stomach. The curve of her hips. Her lean, muscular legs. He felt the lower half of him stir to life even though he knew this was wrong, knew she was drunk and knew he shouldn't be looking. She reached for him and the narrowness of the room allowed her fingertips to find the belt loops of his pants from the edge of the bed. She pulled him closer. A small voice in his head told him that he needed to stop this. This shouldn't happen, not like this. But, a louder much more insistent voice in his pants let her fingertips guide him until he was flush against her torso. Her hands traveled from his waist and up his chest and he couldn't hold back the sound of pleasure that escaped his throat at her touch. The hands found purchase on his shoulders pulling his face down to hers. Their lips were millimeters apart. His eyes fluttered closed. His hands trembled at his sides.

"Finally," she whispered. "I've been waiting for you."

Those words and the proximity of her body and the feel of her breath against his lips were all it took to crush his resolve. He claimed her mouth, her lips parting easily under his. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him. He wondered if she could feel it too. He wove his fingers into her hair. She clawed at the hem of his faded t-shirt and they worked together to remove it, barely parting for air as they did. Her hands ran down the length of his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and settled on his hips. He felt her fumble with the button on his pants until she had it undone, and the zipper pulled down. She used her feet to guide the pants over his hips while simultaneously bringing him down on top of her until he was flush between her thighs. He could feel how warm and wet she was even through their underwear and he was so hard already that any contact help ease the growing ache and stiffness between his legs. Their mouths broke apart and he buried a moan in her neck bucking against her. She hissed her satisfaction, arching up to meet him. He trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck and across her chest, taking one hard nipple into his mouth and then the other. She cried out when he used his teeth to gently bite down and he couldn't help the smirk that appear on his face knowing that he had done this with Katniss Everdeen and that she had liked it.

He had fantasized about this moment for years never thinking it would actually be a reality, especially after he moved away. When he graduated high school, still never saying more than a handful of words to her, he figured that his chance to know her and be with her in this way were gone. And, yet, here he was, and he could barely believe it. He worked his way down to the band of her panties and the realization of just how far this was going to go gave him pause. He could barely hold a thought in his head. He was operating now completely on want and desire, but he still had the presence of mind to seek out her permission. He had never wanted to do anything that may hurt her and so he looked up meeting her hooded glaze and silently asked her what she wanted to do. She seemed to understand his question almost immediately because she sat up and took his face in her hands. They stared at each other for just a moment, their heavy breaths mingled in the darkness, before her lips descended on his. She kissed him fully and deeply without hesitation and in that moment, he knew her answer.

She pulled him onto the bed, pushing him on his back. She removed his shoes, socks and pulled his pants the rest of the way down his legs. Her hands then moved to his boxers. He pulled in a breath. He wasn't what anyone would call massive, but he was impressive enough and he still wanted her to like what she saw. He sprung free from the cotton confines as she added the boxers to the pile of clothes on the floor. He kept his eyes on hers as she shimmied out of her panties as well and smiled slightly when she hummed her approval at what she saw.

The smile disappeared when he felt her small hand grasp him fully. A moan escaped him as she ran her hands up and down his length. He felt the warm, moist heat of her mouth on him and it took nearly everything his had to keep his hips planted on the bed. She felt impossibly good. He'd needed to concentrate because listening to the quiet moans she emitted as she worked her mouth over him brought him closer and closer to the edge. He'd needed to think of anything other than what was happening but the only thing he could focus on was how desperately he wanted to be inside her.

She must have sensed his desperation or maybe, her desired equaled his, because in the next breath she was there, straddling his hips, poised to fully commit to this act. She hesitated, moving her hand up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. He met her gaze. He could easily get lost is those brilliant silver orbs forever if she would let him. Before he had a chance to register another thought, she positioned him at her entrance and sank down on him fully. They sighed in unison. She was so unbelievably hot and wet and tight that he knew he wouldn't last very long. And, when she began to move on him it was all he could do just to hold on to her. She flattened her chest against his, grinding her hips in such a delicious rhythm that it had him gripping the sheets with one hand while the other clung to her ass. She murmured into his neck, her hands planted at either side of his head.

As she worked him faster, he could feel as her walls began to tighten around him and he fought to delay the orgasm he could feel building in himself. He was very close to the brink and knew that soon there would be no holding back. He felt her hot breaths tickle the hairs on the nape of his neck as she moved her mouth to his ear.

"Peeta," she whimpered. "Please."

He knew she was close now. He dropped the sheets still firmly in his grasp and moved his hand down to where they were joined. His fingers moved in tight circles on her center. She sighed her approval against his cheek before placing her hands on his chest and sitting up on him fully. He continued his ministrations until he felt her walls clamp down around him. He gripped her thigh. He was there too, and his mind scrambled desperately trying to decide what he should do, but before he could decide it was already too late. He fell over the edge with her, thrusting up into her until they were both spent.

They collapsed together on the bed. He ran his fingers through her hair as his heart rate slowed and his breathing returned to normal. It was in that moment that the panic began to set in. What had he done? He had never slept with someone unprotected before. He had gotten too carried away too quickly. To make matters worse he had finished inside her without asking if it was something she wanted him to do. He was mortified at his own inability to use his brain. The realization must have had dawned on her too because her once pliant body stiffened in his arms.

"Katniss…I…I'm sorry," he stammered. "I wasn't thinking, and it was all so intense, and I didn't mean…"

She silenced him with the touch of her fingers to his lips and then she planted a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before raising her head to meet his worried eyes. He could see the confusion and apprehension etched on her face. She seemed as stunned by what had happened as he was.

"It's ok," she said. "I'm on birth control and I trust you."

He could hear a nervous undertone to her words, but he had asked her to trust him and although he wasn't thinking of this scenario or of any kind of intimate relationship with her at the time, he was glad that she did. He watched as she removed herself from him and climbed off the bed. She grabbed a robe that was hanging from a door adjacent to the one he had used to enter the room, pulled it on, and turned to give him a shy smile before she exited the room. A light flickered on outside the bedroom bathing the small living room in its glow. He could just make out the smooth white tile of a bathroom floor before she disappeared inside and closed the door behind her.

He laid there for a moment, a chill settled on his skin without the warmth of her body heat. He brought his hands to his face and roughly scrubbed at his eyes. His mind raced through the events of the day and he felt completely and utterly drained. He'd never pictured the day ending up like this and now so many questions hung in the air. They were too daunting to contemplate in the wee hours of the morning that he found himself in, so he knew that for the time being he had to let them go. He sat up, pulled his clothes from the floor and began to get himself dressed. She emerged dressed in a t-shirt and cotton shorts just a few minutes later.

"You're welcome to use it if you need to," she said, pointing towards the bathroom.

He stood, clad only in boxers and pulled his shirt over his head. "No, it's ok I should probably, um…," he looked in the direction of her front door, "go?"

He phrased it as a question, his inflection nervously going up on the last word because he honestly didn't know what she wanted or what was happening between them. He wasn't bold enough to assume she wanted him to stay or that he'd had a right to stay, but there was a pull deep within his gut, a desire to crawl into the bed and wrap his arms around her, to cradle her against him until they were both asleep. He stood there awkwardly for a beat, watching as different emotions passed over her stormy eyes. He took her silence as an answer, picked up his pants, socks and shoes and moved towards the open doorway. Her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist. He stopped and turned to look at her, the expression on her face softened as she took his hand fully in hers.

"Stay."

That was all he needed to hear. He returned the clothing in his arms to the floor and let her lead him back to the bed. They crawled under the covers together, and, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she laid her head on his chest. He felt the beat of his heart hitch for just a moment. He wrapped his arms around her and she squirmed even closer to him. She smelled of lavender and the trees. The scent was intoxicatingly soothing. He let that, the warmth of her body pressed against his and the rhythmic sounds of her breath lull him to sleep.


	3. In All The Chaos

_Katniss_

It felt like the heat, the noise and the frantic movements would consume her. They buzzed in her head, drowning her. She welcomed it. There had been too many days of silence, too many days of overthinking, insecurities and nonsensical worries. The loneliness she had felt before was now replaced with a desire for something she never thought she wanted. Something she felt like she now needed to have, as essential to her as oxygen or water.

It had been nearly three weeks since she had spent the night with Peeta and in all the chaos of running a kitchen and working in a fully booked popular new restaurant, they had barely spoken. She had awoken that day tangled up in him. The delicious smell of his skin, like fragrant spices, and the warmth of his body around hers had lulled her into the most peaceful sleep she had experienced in months. She wasn't used to the feeling of not wanting to leave the bed, of not wanting him to go. They had gone to bed so late and slept so soundly that when they did wake up, at three in the afternoon, they had to rush out of her apartment in a panic in order to pick up her car and allow Peeta enough time to go home, shower and change before they had to be a District 12 again that evening. They had barely enough time to get out of her front door let alone time to discuss what had happened. They could've texted each other, but he had never initiated it and neither had she.

She didn't regret what had happened, although she'd wished it could've happened in a different way. She had wanted to take her time with him but watching him run the kitchen and then mingle and charm her friends at the party had lit a fire in her that couldn't be quelled. Sure, the alcohol had helped lower her inhibitions and quiet the voice in her head telling her to wait, but she had known what she was doing. The only communication they'd had since were stolen glances and brief work-related words when he expedited from the line in the kitchen.

That's where she found herself on a busy Friday night, lost in the commotion of the kitchen and the flex of Peeta's jaw as he yelled instructions and encouragements to his team. The couple at table two had each ordered The Brutus, their extremely popular and delicious short rib and brisket burger and had deemed it either overcooked or undercooked according to their preferences. The burgers were cooked to perfection and Katniss had struggled to keep the smile plastered on her face as she'd taken their plates back to the kitchen. As she had handed the plates to Peeta and he frowned examining both burgers, she told him they were cooked beautifully and to not throw them away, her shift was ending soon, and she would be back to eat them later. The smile that lit up his face was amazing, and she would gladly deal with difficult customers everyday just to see it again.

"I really need the plates back fast. Those people are going to be pissed and pissed customers means no money for me," she said to Thresh, Peeta's sous chef and second in command.

"I hate to say it Kat, but I think they're going to be pissy no matter what," he said, moving between the stations with ease as he re-plated the meals for her. "But, I'm a rock star, so you know this meal is going to be fucking delicious." He handed both plates to her with a wink and a smile.

"You're all rock stars!" She yelled over the noise as she made her way out of the kitchen smiling at the sound of whoops and hollers behind her.

The uncharacteristic smile stayed with her through the end of her shift. In fact, it had been gracing her face more and more lately and people had started to notice. Haymitch had raised his eyebrow at her more than once and she had quickly replaced the smile with her more notable scowl only to have the smile reappear again as soon as he wasn't looking. Prim had even commented about how talkative and upbeat she seemed during their last weekly Skype session. She couldn't help it. If she weren't so unacquainted with the emotion, she would almost say she was happy. And starving. Her stomach made rebellious noises as she made her way through the kitchen to the employee lockers near the back door. She grabbed her car keys and phone, already thinking about raiding the meager rations of her kitchen cupboards when she got home, when a soft breath tickled her earlobe.

"Don't forget these."

She spun around to find Peeta holding a styrofoam container with the uneaten burgers inside, a smile spread wide across his face. Damp curls stuck out from under his black beanie chef cap. His cheeks were flushed from the kitchen's heat. He looked magnificent. Snippets of her night with him flashed through her mind. The broadness of his bare shoulders and chest. The sensation of his hands on her. His face twisted in ecstasy. The feeling of him inside her. The breathy way her name spilled from his lips. She clenched her thighs together, trying to hide her fidgeting by taking the container from his outstretched hands. Their fingers brushed. She sucked in a deep breath, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

"Peeta, I…" The words left her in a rush and then she didn't know how to begin. There were so many things she needs to say to him, but she was terrible with words and his proximity caused all her thoughts to jumble in her head.

His eyes softened as he seemed to realize her struggle. He reached out to her, his mouth opening to speak when a loud crash emanated from the kitchen followed by Thresh cursing under his breath and a line cook uttering apologies. Peeta turned his head from her to the scene unfolding behind him, torn between his desire and his obligation. She nodded her head towards the kitchen, silently telling him to go. A deep sigh escaped him, and they turned away from each other. As she exited the back door, already ridiculing herself for not saying something, anything, to him, she felt the familiar sensation of his fingers on her wrist. He turned her towards him and lowered his mouth to hers, stopping just as their lips began to graze. Her eyes had already shut in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" He whispered. His hands had already worked their way to the back of her head, his fingers winding into her hair, just waiting for her consent.

"Yes," she murmured before leaning into him and claiming his mouth with her own.

She hadn't meant for the kiss to get out of hand. Her intention was for something much more chaste since they had been out in the open, in full view of anyone who wandered by. What started as a simmering fire, a simple and sweet pressing of lips together turned into a raging inferno with bodies colliding, hot breathes, tongues and exploratory hands. Peeta pulled away first, resting his forehead against hers. She moved her hands to cup his face as they both tried to catch their breath. She deeply inhaled the scent of him. He smelled of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and dill, of sweat and the array of foods in the kitchen too. It wasn't overpowering. He seemed to carry it all in a perfect balance. It was intoxicating.

"I need to see you again," she spoke gently against his lips. She felt his head nod in agreement.

"We have a lot to talk about. And, if I'm being honest, I need to have you next to me in bed again. I need to have you on every surface of that apartment. If you'd allow it."

He pulled back with a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, but she also saw the determination in his eyes and the fact that he meant every word he said.

"I'd allow it."

The grin disappeared from his face and his pupils nearly swallowed up the cobalt of his eyes. He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. She could feel his growing excitement against her thigh. Luckily, it was covered by his apron. With a groan he placed a swift kiss to the tip of her nose and released her. He ran his hand over the back of his neck as he started back towards the rear entrance of the restaurant. He turned to look at her once more, a blush fully bloomed across his cheeks. She couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or excitement, maybe both.

"I'm done early tonight," he said. "Thresh is manning the kitchen until close. I'm off at nine. Can I...? Would it be ok if…? Do you…?"

He stammered suddenly so unsure of himself. She didn't know what had caused the confidence he had displayed only a few seconds earlier to disappear. She had noticed that he sometimes did this in the kitchen too. He would appear confident one moment and then, as if someone had told him he was wrong, he would second guess himself, retreating into his thoughts and growing quiet. It was like he was at war with himself. She wished she had the words to tell him how amazing she thought he was, but nothing she thought to say seemed adequate enough.

"I'll see you at 9:30, then?" She asked.

He smiled and winked, the confidence seeming to reappear, and he vanished behind the kitchen door. She stood there dazed. She'd never felt this intensity so quickly with anyone else before and it scared her. It left her wary to move forward, but she ached for more of him in a way she couldn't explain and didn't fully understand. All she knew was that life felt better with him in it and she hadn't experienced that feeling in a very long time.

"I saw that," a voice called out.

She cringed and cursed under her breath. Haymitch leaned against the brick of District 12's exterior walls. He was in the alley between the restaurant and the building next door. Shadow had hidden him from sight, but he was close enough to the back of the building to have witnessed the entire exchange between Peeta and herself.

"You know, Sweetheart," he began as he pushed himself off of the wall and started toward her, "it does neither of us any good to have you fraternizing with the hired help."

"I am the hired help," she snapped and tried to cross by him to get to her car. His hand shot out and gently grabbed her bicep, stopping her in place. She could smell the liquor on his breath and knew from the way his speech slurred slightly at the ends and the minor wobble in his walk that he was already half in the bag. A drunk Haymitch didn't hold back, not that a sober Haymitch really did either but his criticism tended to sting less with sobriety.

"Now, now, no need to get testy. You and I both remember how this ended the last time. Or, have you forgotten already? Maybe I can show you the receipt I have from the repair work to fix the front window? Would that jog your memory? I don't need the boy losing his shit like the last one did and wrecking my bar. What was his name again?"

She groaned and threw Haymitch a look of disgust. He knew damn well the guy's name was Cato, and he had yet to let her live down the fact that Cato tossed a bar stool through the front window of the restaurant after Katniss broke up with him. He was also subsequently fired which left Johanna managing the bar alone, a fact she rarely let Katniss forget either especially on very busy nights.

"Look, I get it." Haymitch continued. "You don't have the time or need for attachments. You have a sort of catch and release thing going on. You reel them in and then pull the hook out and set them free."

"That makes me sound like a self-righteous bitch. Thanks, Haymitch."

Her scowl returned, and a guilty weight landed on her shoulders. She pulled her arm free from his grasp but didn't leave. He wasn't wrong. She did have a history of using men to fill the lonely void in her life. She had never wanted a relationship or attachment. She knew all too well the pain of losing someone you loved and, if given the choice, she hadn't wanted to feel that way about anyone. Having to worry about losing Prim or Haymitch or Gale was hard enough. They had embedded themselves in her heart and her love for them ran deep, but she had always avoided consciously choosing to love someone outside of that trio. However, Peeta had begun to change that even in the small amount of time she had spent with him. Her draw to him was undeniable. It worried her and it obviously worried Haymitch too.

"It's different with him," she murmured.

Haymitch opened his mouth to say something else and then paused. Instead he clasped his hand over her shoulder patting it twice and then turned to walk away. She heard him mumble something under his breath as he made his way back to the restaurant, but she couldn't understand what he had said. He stopped outside the kitchen door and pulled up his pant leg exposing the black boots he always wore. She watched him shove a shaky hand into the top of the boot and produce a flask. He held the flask up, tipping it in her direction before throwing back a large mouthful and replacing the flask back in his boot. He straightened his clothing, took a visible deep breath and then disappeared into the kitchen.

She stood in the rear parking lot, the styrofoam container with the burgers still in her hands. As if it was urging her on, her stomach gave an angry grumble reminding her that she still hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She sighed and headed toward her car. Haymitch's words and the fire of Peeta's lips had her mind reeling. She didn't blame Haymitch for his concern. Her track record was anything but stellar, but she didn't think that was where things were going with Peeta. She wanted him in her life. The thought of losing him caused an actual physical reaction in her. Her stomach cramped, and a swirl of nausea crawled up her throat. She braced her hands against the steering wheel of her car and let the cool air from the air conditioning vents wash over her face until the nausea passed. She shook her head. She needed to get home and eat. She needed a shower. And, she definitely needed to talk to Peeta.

* * *

The tile felt cool against her flushed face as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Her fingers played with the soft fibers of the carpeted mat under her sink. She wondered how she'd never noticed the plushness of this mat before. Her stomach protested violently, and she froze waiting for the nausea to follow, but it didn't. She was still ridiculously hungry. The burgers that Peeta had given her were left untouched on her kitchen counter. She sat up slowly, leaning her back against the cabinet under her bathroom sink and thought about trying to reheat the burgers and eat them, but her stomach lurched in response just as it had done when she got home and opened the container. She tipped her head back and took deep breaths until the queasiness passed. A knock at the door jolted her forward and she rose to answer it, but then remembered that to do so she would need to walk past the offending burgers and she didn't know if she had that in her. She closed her eyes and hoped that it was just a stunning blonde haired, blue eyed boy at her door and not some crazy murdering maniac.

"Come in," she yelled as she quickly flushed the evidence of her nausea down the toilet and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste.

The door opened and closed, and she smirked as the tentative, but heavy footsteps that could only belong to Peeta, crept through her kitchen.

"Katniss?"

She turned and met him at the doorway of her bathroom. The toothbrush still in her mouth and toothpaste foam making its way down her chin. She quickly brought her hand up to wipe it away and he grinned. The smile faded as he took in the scene. Her shoes and bag laying haphazardly in the middle of the floor, the rug in her tiny living room folded over on itself where she had tripped trying to make her way to the bathroom, her disheveled hair, her sweaty face and finally the small amount of vomit on her shirt that she didn't realize was there until that very moment. Mortified, she spit out the toothpaste, threw the toothbrush in the sink and stomped into her bedroom pulling the shirt over her head as she went.

"What happened?" He asked as he followed behind her. "Are you okay?"

She turned towards him and he swiftly turned away with a slight blush staining his cheeks, giving her his back and a modicum of privacy. His chivalry made her stomach flip, but not in the nauseous way it had earlier, in a way she didn't quite understand and had never felt before. They had seen each other naked, but he still had the decency to allow her privacy to change. No one she had been with had ever done that. Once they had gotten her bare, they treated her body like their property, something they could look and touch whenever they felt like it.

"I think I might have caught a stomach bug or something," she said while pulling a clean shirt over her head and coming around to face him. "You probably should go. I don't want you getting sick too."

He cocked his head at her like that was the craziest idea he had ever heard. "Have you eaten anything?"

"No, but I'll be fine. I can get something once I'm sure it won't make a sudden reappearance."

"The burgers are still on the counter. Do you want me to…"?

She reached out her hand and covered his mouth to stop him. She didn't want to think of the burgers or the smell of meat cooking or onions and definitely not pickles. His wide shocked eyes would be comical if she didn't suddenly feel queasy all over again.

"The burgers need to go," she pled as she let go of his mouth and made her way to lay down on the bed. "Now, please. I'm sorry."

She buried her face in her comforter and willed the rolling in her stomach to end. She didn't think she had it in her to throw up again and she had already humiliated herself enough today. Peeta's heavy footsteps left the room. Cabinets opened and closed in the kitchen. Bags rustled. Pots clanged. She was curious why he was making so much noise to just throw out one container, but she was too afraid of moving to check.

"Maybe it's food poisoning," he yelled from what sounded like the inside of one of her empty cupboards.

She'd had a quick breakfast with Gale and Madge that morning, but it was just standard breakfast fare and nothing she thought would cause food poisoning. She reached for her phone sitting on her nightstand to text Madge since she knew Gale would still be at work.

 _Katniss: Hey, you guys feeling ok?_

 _Madge: Yep. Why?_

 _Katniss: Been sick today. Thought maybe food poisoning. Haven't eaten anything since breakfast._

 _Madge: Oh no! Do you need anything?_

 _Katniss: I'm ok. Peeta is here._

 _Madge: !_

 _Katniss: Stop. Don't make me throw up again lol_

 _Madge: Ok lol. Feel better soon! Tell Peeta I said hi._

She laid her phone back on the nightstand ignoring the chime indicating a new message. She jumped a little when Peeta sheepishly peered around the door frame. He had been surprisingly stealthy compared to his previous noise through the apartment. He flashed that dazzling smile at her as he walked fully into the bedroom. He held a bowl in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in another.

"I did my best," he began quickly before she had a chance to object, "but, soup and crackers always makes me feel better. It's just a plain broth. I thought that would be best with the earlier offensive entrée."

Despite the lingering queasiness, the broth did smell wonderful and her stomach growled in anticipation. She moved back against the headboard and Peeta gently handed her the bowl and laid the crackers next to her phone on the nightstand. She sipped the broth warily and took a deep breath of the steamy vapors rising from the bowl. Nothing about the delicious concoction caused any kind of negative effect and so she began to eat and drink with gusto. Between gulps she eyed Peeta over the rim of the bowl as he awkwardly looked around the room unsure of what he should do and not wanting to obviously stare at her while she ate. She picked up a few crackers from the nightstand, offered them to him and patted the mattress next to her. He took the crackers, kicked off his shoes and crawled onto the bed, scooting his himself back against the headboard beside her. Their hips and legs were flush, and she smiled into her bowl as she took another hearty sip.

The feeling of being near him was so unusual. He put her instantly at ease and she was amazed at how relaxed they were around each other even though they hadn't really known each other long. In a strange way that she wouldn't dare speak out loud, just being near him felt like home. She glanced at him as he quietly chewed his crackers. His legs were crossed at the ankles. His posture was completely relaxed. He'd let his head fall back against the headboard and his eyes were closed. The definition of his jaw made it look like it was carved from stone. His usual easy expression was replaced by something more intense and removed that suggested an entire world locked away inside him. If it weren't for the steady rhythm of his breathes and the movement of his mouth as he chewed, she could've sworn he wasn't real. He was so still. His eyelashes, which you didn't normally notice much because they're so blonde, up close were a light golden color and so long she didn't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinked. He was so beautiful.

"You're staring," he murmured, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. His eyes stayed closed.

"I'm not," she replied unconvincingly into her soup bowl.

His bright blue eyes opened, and he leaned in close to her. "I think you like me," he whispered. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

She laughed and playfully shoved him away feigning indifference while rolling her eyes, but a blush formed on her cheeks regardless. He chuckled for a moment and then grew quiet again.

"The last time I was here…things happened so fast, and you were drunk, and I don't regret anything, but I wish that I would've…that we would've...," he exhaled and paused, "I hope you don't think I took advantage of you. I meant what I said in the parking lot. I want you. I want you so much that it consumes all of my thoughts. I feel this need, this pull, to be around you and I think that is what drove me that night and I just wanted to apologize to you if you felt like I took advantage of the situation in any way."

She sat next to him stunned by his confession. Her brain scrambling for an adequate response. She wasn't sure what to say because she didn't understand how she felt or what was happening between them. Everything seemed so fast but then again, nothing had ever felt as right as the feeling of him next to her. She felt that pull too, that need. The want to have him, to touch him, to just stand in the same room as him. It made her feel crazy, but in a fantastically heady way, like everything was alright with the world and she could do nothing wrong.

They didn't know each other well enough for a definition of this feeling. Infatuation maybe? Lust? She wasn't sure. But, what she did know was that he had nothing to feel guilty or apologetic about. She had wanted him on that night they shared together and although she had been drunk, she had known what she was doing, and she had made her choices. She would make the same ones all over again if given the chance.

She wished that she was good with words, and that she could say all the things that swirled around in her head, but she just didn't have that capacity, so she did the only thing she could think to do. She set the bowl on the nightstand and rose to her knees. She placed her palms on either side of his face and brought her lips to his forehead. He released a breath that she felt reverberate through her whole body. Her lips then traveled to the tip of his nose and lingered a moment before ghosting over his lips. Mimicking their earlier encounter behind the restaurant she whispered, "Is this okay?" He hummed his ascent and she slowly lowered her mouth to his, savoring the moment, the smell and the taste of him. Her hands moved from his face to the back of his neck. The movement of their lips achingly slow. His hands traversed the landscape of her thighs before stopping on her hips. His fingers inched beneath of the seam of her shirt. His thumbs caressed small circles on her hips bones. The embers within her that seemed to constantly smolder for him burst to life, his touch giving them all the oxygen they required to become flames.

Her leg swung across his lap and his fingers pulled her closer, the heat from his hand feeding the fire inside her. The pace and urgency of their lips quickened. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth begging for entrance which she quickly granted. The thoughts that had consumed her mind just moments ago had vanished. She could only focus on the totality of him. The feel of the downy soft hairs on the back of his neck, the hard planes of his chest, the gentle strength in his arms, the brush of his tongue against hers, gentle yet insistent like he wanted to savor every inch of her mouth. He pulled away first, placing a kiss on her chin before letting his head fall against her shoulder. His heavy breaths formed goosebumps on her chest and breasts. Her nipples hardened against him. A quiet groan rumbled from his chest and she smiled into his hair because she knew he'd felt it.

"Feeling better?" He mumbled against her neck sending a shiver through her.

She nodded in reply and kissed the top of his head inhaling the scent of his mint and sandalwood shampoo. As she took a moment to really assess the way she felt, she realized that she actually did feel completely better. The nausea was gone. The broth and crackers had helped, just like he said they would. At the mere thought of food, her still nearly empty stomach gave a rebellious demand to be fed. Peeta laughed against her and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her flat against him.

"Time for real food?" He asked, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. "Shall I whip something up for us?"

"Forget about food. We don't need to eat. Let's just stay in this bed forever."

He chuckled. "As much as I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live it in forever, we're going to have to eat at some point. By the sound of things, I think that point has arrived."

He playfully tickled her waist and she squirmed, ever reluctantly, from his embrace. "Let's not cook. Besides, you've seen my cupboards, broth and crackers are about the best I have to offer right now."

"That's true," he agreed an impish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Pizza?"

"What about Chinese?"

While she could typically eat pizza for almost every meal, there was a different craving working its way to the forefront of her mind even though she usually was pretty impartial when it came to Chinese takeout. She decided to blame it on the faint smell wafting through her floorboards from below.

"Don't move," Peeta said as he hopped out of the bed and headed for the door.

"Wait! You don't even know what I like."

He paused in the bedroom doorway theatrically tapping a finger to the corner of his mouth. "I bet I can guess. Give me a few minutes and let me surprise you."

He leaned forward, grasped her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles and then made his way out the door. She listened to the dull thud of his footsteps on the stairs down the hall until the apartment was engulfed in silence once again. She flopped back on the mattress with a contented sigh and then kicked her feet happily and made what could only be described as a girlish squeal. She stopped, her fist frozen in the air in celebration. What had happened to her? She wasn't this girl. She didn't get giddy over a guy. If she didn't know right, she would think she was turning into her sister. Prim was the hopeless romantic who loved sappy love stories and dreamed of Prince Charming. Katniss had always been the pragmatic one, the provider, the parental figure in an otherwise parentless household. She had never had time for fantasy or romance. But, there was something about Peeta Mellark. Something that broke all of the rules she had put in place for herself. Something that made her do a silly dance on her mattress. Prim would think this was hysterical. She would laugh and lightheartedly tease Katniss only to then want to know all of the details and start planning the wedding.

Katniss wondered if she had time to call Prim but realized that there was no way they could have a short five-minute conversation. She decided to send her a text instead with the promise to call her in the morning. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand ready to unlock it when the notification on the home screen stopped her short. It was the unread text message from Madge that had come through right before Peeta had brought her the broth. Her stomach dropped, and her heart began to race as she read the words on the screen.

 _Madge: You're not pregnant right?_

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. Now that she thought about it, she should've had a period by now. Her cycle was like clockwork especially since she had been using birth control. She exhaled in relief as she remembered that she was on birth control. She had started using it last year after being chastised by her sister, Madge and Johanna. In reality, she had never really been that sexually active. There had been a couple people when she was in and just out of high school, including Gale, which they soon found out was an awkward mistake. But, for the most part, she had always been busy working and taking care of Prim. Things didn't start to change for her until Prim left for college two years ago. It was then that Katniss started to look for ways to fill the loneliness in her life.

She opened the app on her phone that she used to track her cycles and sure enough, it told her that she was six days late. She didn't understand. This had never happened before. The lateness combined with the nausea caused a pool of anxiety to settle in her belly. Although she didn't understand how she was late, she did know that there had been only one person she had been with without the added protection of condoms. Peeta. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Her foot bounced nervously on the floor. This worry would consume her if she let it. Peeta would be back with the food and he would know something was different, something was wrong. There was only one way to ease the worry that had grown from a pool and was now crashing over her in waves. She threw on her shoes, quickly typed out a text to Peeta and headed out the door and to the convenience store across the street.

* * *

It's amazing how slowly three minutes can go by when you are dreading something. She watched the timer on her phone tick down the seconds as she sat on her bathroom floor with her back against the bathtub listening to Peeta open up the boxes of takeout in the living room. They had both gotten back to the apartment at nearly the same time and he didn't question what she had gone out for. He excitedly talked to her about a book on Chinese cuisine that he had read and about some fusion recipes he would like to try. She had tried to pay attention to his words and to match his enthusiasm, but all she could think about was the impending doom or rapture that the test hidden in her purse would reveal. She had caught a glance or two from him that gave away the fact that he could tell that something in the air between them had changed, but we kept up his rambling and gave no indication otherwise. She, on the other hand, felt like a fidgeting mess. Thoughts ran through her brain faster than she could process them. Her muscles twitched with nerves and her heart hammered behind her ribs. She eventually was able to excuse herself to the bathroom where she now found herself wishing she could somehow blend in with the white tile floor and walls and disappear completely.

The timer ticked down the final seconds and she quickly turned it off before the alarm could sound. She reached up to the edge of the sink where the determination of her destiny ominously sat and grabbed the white plastic stick in her fist. She kept her eyes averted wanting to hold on to the last few seconds of what had been a magnificent day. Peeta hummed a song out of tune in the living room and she knew she had lingered in here too long at this point. He would start to wonder if she was sick again. She needed to quit delaying, just rip off the metaphorical bandage and look. So, she did, and those two pink lines stared right back at her in a confirmation of all her fears and insecurities.

Before she had a chance to stop herself, she felt the first tears roll down her cheeks. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried. It had to have been when Prim left for college, but she couldn't be sure. She had never been overtly emotional. Emotions were like ammunition that could and would eventually hurt her. She had known no other reality. Yet, she sat on the bathroom floor filled with so many conflicting emotions that she didn't know which was forefront. Tears turned to sobs that wracked her chest and drew out noises she didn't mean to make.

A quiet knock at the door and the pressure of a warm embrace.

Peeta.

She turned into him as he sank beside her on the floor letting the sobs work their way through and out of her until there was nothing left. He held her close, his fingers combing through her hair. He was silent. He didn't ask what or why. He just held her giving her his strength to use when she was ready. She pulled back to look at his face. His eyes were wide, the pupils swallowed nearly all of the brilliant blue showing only deep wells of emotion. His eyes scanned the room, the empty box in the sink, the positive test on the floor and finally back to her face. She didn't have to say anything. He already knew. He sat fully back against the wall and she curled against his chest listening to the steady drumming of his heart. He wrapped his arms around her and idly played with the end of her hair. The silence stretched between them for what seemed like hours before she finally spoke.

"I didn't lie to you. When we were together that night I was on birth control. I still am, or I was, or I don't know what I am now."

He sighed deeply. His chest rose and fell carrying her frame with it. His hand stilled on the ends of her hair.

"I never thought you lied to me Katniss, but does that mean that this…that it is mine?"

His voice was barely above a whisper like he feared speaking in full volume would carry more weight than either of them could bare in the moment. She simply nodded and listened as the steady cadence of his heartbeat turned to an erratic gallop beneath her ear. He released a heavy breath that tickled the top of her head and gently pulled away from her, so they were face to face. His fingertip caressed her chin as he tipped her face up to meet his eyes.

"What do you want to do?" He asked.

His eyes were glassy with the same trepidation she felt, but she saw nothing but gentleness behind his gaze. He wasn't upset or angry with her. He wasn't running for the door. He was down here on the bathroom floor with her face in his hands letting her decide the fate of them both. In that moment she knew that she would never hurt this man, she would do what she could to keep him safe and that he was working his way deep within her heart like only a few people had ever been able to do. It was terrifying and exhilarating and exhausting. She didn't know what to do about any part of the entirety of the situation. About him, about the plastic stick with two pink lines, about anything. She saw only incredibly hard choices and she didn't have the stamina to make them while propped against her bathroom tiles.

"I want to sleep," she began. "I want to crawl in your arms and never leave. I want to rip my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. I want to talk to my sister. I want to hide under the covers of my bed. I want to eat. I want to get up off this goddamn floor and I may want to throw up again. As for the rest of it, I don't know."

"Well, I know I can definitely help you out with at least three of those things," he said as he rose to his feet holding out his hand to help her up as well. "You're up off the goddamn floor, I have a lot of food sitting just on the other side of this door and my arms are always here for you when you need them." He pulled her into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. "As for the rest of it, we'll figure it out together."

* * *

 **A/N : Between the holiday and family duties, I struggled with this chapter and getting it to come together how I wanted it to. My goal is to keep the essence of Katniss and Peeta's characters even though some of the things they say and do may not be completely canon. I still don't know how I feel about how this one turned out, but I'm ultra critical of everything I write :). Things are definitely taking a turn for our favorite pair and there is still so much backstory to tell. I hope you like it! My apologies for any mistakes.**


	4. I Know No Other Way Than This

**I apologize for this short chapter and for the ridiculously long wait for than update! Life has kicked my ass the past several months and this chapter has been sitting on my computer just waiting to be edited and uploaded. I know that it is about 3k words shorter than the others, but I hope it packs a punch even with its short length. I felt that we needed to move on to Katniss again with where this ended. I've already started writing the next chapter and I hope to have it uploaded ASAP.**

 **Thank you so much for the encouragement and reviews I've received. I'm thrilled that you are enjoying the story.**

 **My apologies for any typos :)**

* * *

 _Peeta_

He nervously drummed his fingers on the speckled linoleum tabletop. The rain pelted the fogged glass of the diner's window in harmony with his fingertips. He had awoken that morning to the view of heavy, grey storm clouds looming overhead outside the bedroom window. Their ominous presence matched the dread that had consumed him as he prepared for the day. The rain and dark skies set a dramatic mood and, although cliché, it was completely appropriate.

He was meeting his mother for breakfast.

He had reached out to his father and brother, Rye, a week ago after Katniss had come to him and let him know that she wanted to keep the baby.

Their baby.

He was going to be a father.

He was thrilled.

He was terrified.

This realization brought up memories of his childhood and his own father. It made the rift between his family seem small in comparison. He didn't want to go on not speaking with them and have them miss out on this experience, on becoming uncles and grandparents. He also didn't want the baby to miss out on family members to know and love. What he didn't expect when he reached out to Rye, was for his mother to call. When it came to her, there were some bridges that couldn't be mended. She blamed him for so much and would forgive him for nothing. He would never understand this ability to throw a child away, to ignore their existence or to loathe it entirely.

So, he sat in a small diner three towns over from where he lived and where his family's bakery was established, anxiously awaiting her arrival. She had specifically requested the meeting take place here as it was just far enough away from home to not inconvenience her while maintaining enough distance to ensure she didn't run into anyone she knew. The knowledge that she didn't want anyone familiar to see her with him hurt, but he knew her well enough to have expected nothing less. So, he took that pain and locked it away like he had done with all the rest and he steeled himself for her arrival.

He expected her to blow through the door on a gust of wind and rain so vicious that all of the diner's patrons would stop and stare in horror because that was the way it felt seeing her again. Her entrance, however dramatic in his mind, was much more subdued in reality. Her slender frame glided through the door virtually unnoticed. Her blonde hair, several shades lighter than his own, was pulled back from her face in a low bun that sat impeccably coiffed at the base of her skull. Her face and lips adorned with perfectly applied makeup. A designer bag tucked neatly into the crook of her elbow. Her hands folded demurely in front of her. Nude polish gleamed from her manicured nails. She looked every bit the part of a wealthy citizen, which Peeta knew was her goal. Although his family's bakery did well and was prominent in the community, they were far from wealthy and this had always been a source of contention for his mother. Wide-set black sunglasses sat perched on the bridge of her nose. They had sunk low enough for her eyes to see over the top of the frame. Her icy blue gaze scanned the diner until it landed on him.

"Mother," he greeted evenly as she approached the table.

She didn't answer immediately. She took her time removing her glasses, depositing them in her bag and then placing the bag in an empty seat at the table. She remained standing, looking him over thoroughly before releasing an exasperated breath and taking the seat directly across from him.

"You stupid creature," she spat avoiding any pleasantries.

He struggled to keep his outward appearance composed. Inside he was boiling. "It's wonderful to see you again, too," he replied coolly.

"I always thought it would be Rye who would go and knock up some insignificant slut. He barely has two brain cells to rub together, but I can't say I'm surprised that it's you. You've always been weak and now you're going to sully the family's good name even further. As if you haven't done enough already. Proja would've never embarrassed me like this. He would've married within his station and given me beautiful grandchildren. But, you've destroyed that, too, haven't you?"

The venomous words flowed easily from her lips and she never dropped her chilly glare. Peeta could feel his cheeks burning with humiliation and anger. It felt like his insides were twisting in on themselves from the sheer willpower it took to remain calm in this public place. He knew his mother would bring up Proja, her darling first-born, the only son she ever really wanted. She had doted on him and while still strict in terms of discipline, she showed him the love and affection that she denied Rye and Peeta. It had created severe animosity between Proja and Rye, but Peeta, being the youngest, had always looked up to both of his brothers. Proja especially.

The age gap between himself and his older brother was much wider than the one he had with Rye and so, Proja seemed much less like an equal and more like this mythical figure to him. This person who could do no wrong and knew all the answers to questions that Peeta was too embarrassed or afraid to ask anyone else. As Peeta got older and Proja graduated from high school and left home, their bond strengthened. Distance and time seemed to help Proja see the cruelty their mother inflicted on Peeta and Rye and he would talk to Peeta in length about the guilt he carried from years of saying and doing nothing to help. Proja wanted desperately to repair the relationship with Rye and Peeta tried to help him do that, which is why he invited both brothers for a long weekend at their Aunt Effie's home in New Orleans the year prior.

"I just had to see you one more time and tell you face to face how utterly disappointed I am," his mother spat. "The years of my life I wasted on you and your idiot brother. I will never get those back. And, now look at me! I'll waste away in that bakery with your ridiculous father, with no family and no son."

"I'm your son," he countered with as much confidence as he could muster even as his voice cracked at the end. He should have been used to hearing these things from her after all of these years, but it still stung. He swallowed the tears threatening to spill out. He knew she would only use those as another weapon against him.

"You killed my son," she said with so much finality that he knew the conversation was over.

She rose from the table, grabbed her bag and turned to leave. At the door she looked back over her shoulder at him. He searched for anything besides utter hatred in her eyes. He found nothing. She slid her sunglasses into place on her face and left the diner just as uneventfully as she arrived. He looked around at the people eating and chattering away. Some laughing, some smiling, some leaning in close to whisper. He looked across the table at the empty chair in front of him. He had never felt so alone. The guilt of Proja's death rested heavily on his shoulders. It hadn't been his fault, not technically, but she would never see it that way. Although he hated to admit it, there was a very large part of himself that took the blame as well. It had been his idea to go to that third bar. He had let Proja get behind the wheel and even climbed into the passenger seat although he knew it was a bad idea. He should've said no. He should've suggested they had gone back to Effie's sooner, called a cab, walked the couple of miles, anything. He should've never invited them to stay with him in the first place. Then, he wouldn't have killed his brother.

* * *

"You're going to have to tell her Peet."

The voice drifted into the kitchen where Peeta stood staring blankly at the granite countertop, a knife poised above the carrot he was supposed to be chopping. His mind felt like a million pieces of paper scattered in the wind. As hard as he tried he couldn't collect enough pieces to get his thoughts together. He shrugged in response knowing that the gesture would not be seen. He continued chopping until he heard Finnick's footsteps enter the kitchen.

"Peeta, I told you that I would be cooking for you tonight," he chastised. "Now, back away from the sharp objects slowly. I've met your mother. I know what that bitch can do, so having knives in your hands is probably not the best thing for you."

Finnick opened the refrigerator door and grabbed a beer, replacing it with the knife in Peeta's hand. Peeta leaned against the adjacent counter and watched as Finnick took over the vegetable preparation. He took a long drink, holding the bottle to his lips and letting the amber liquid sit on his tongue before swallowing it down.

"I see that isn't a problem for you anymore," Finnick said gesturing to the bottle in Peeta's hands.

Peeta shrugged. It wasn't that it was no longer a problem, it still felt strange and a little unnatural to be drinking again but after the day he'd had, he welcomed the warmth and internal calmness that came with alcohol. Finnick raised his brow at Peeta's lack of response then shook his head and continued his work. Peeta had met Finnick shortly after finishing high school. He had spent the summer taking odd jobs in order to stay away from the bakery and his parents whom weren't happy with his decision to not go to university. One of those jobs was as an assistant on the set of a low budget independent movie shooting in various locations around town. The star of the movie was Finnick Odair; a then 26-year-old bronze haired, green eyed, Greek statue of a man. A heartthrob by any standard.

Peeta's job was to basically make sure that he was happy, fed and ready to film when it was his time to do so. That wasn't as easy as it seemed. In front of a crowd Finnick was charming, dashing and nearly always irresistible. In private, he was sullen, aloof and desperately homesick. He would often hide away in his trailer untying and retying a braided bracelet around his wrist that the costume department begged him not to wear but he refused, and they had to be creative in trying to hide it on film. Peeta had tried his best to break through with Finnick, but nothing had worked and by the end of filming they were both exhausted and frustrated with each other. Then, on the last day of filming, Peeta left a small cake he had baked and decorated with the words, "Happy Birthday Annie" in Finnick's trailer after inadvertently seeing the reminder, _Annie's bday-get cake,_ pop up as a notification on Finnick's phone. It was only a simple round cake decorated in while buttercream but wrapped around the bottom was an exact replica of Finnick's bracelet, frayed ends and all. Peeta had left the cake without a second thought. It was his last gesture of kindness. He didn't know who Annie was or if Finnick would actually give her the cake or toss it in the trash. What he didn't expect was to be wrapped up in a bear hug with his face locked against Finnick's bare chest.

Upon seeing the cake, Finnick had sprinted from his trailer half dressed. Mid-sprint he had decided to forgo the typical and usual manly handshake and wrap the kind, blonde haired kid who had been putting up with his shit for weeks in a hug. The kid didn't know that the bracelet he wore matched the one his wife, Annie, wore on her wrist as well as a much smaller version that resided on the tiny wrist of his toddler son, Jacob. It was the only thing that held them all together while Finnick spent long weeks away pursuing his dream and trying to build a better life for his small family. He desperately loved his wife and his son, but they were his private secret. In order to build his brand and create the persona of an available heartthrob, his agent and manager agreed that for the time being he should appear single in public. The charming smiles, whispered flirtations and outward bravado slowly ate away at him. He loved his job but after a few days away he wanted nothing more than to be home.

So, that simple cake with its enormous meaning was how he and Peeta became friends. They kept in touch over the years as Finnick's star started to climb and then rocketed into orbit when he starred in another indie movie that got nominated for an Oscar. Suddenly, his name was household and his life no longer a secret. He would confess to Peeta later that while fame had its pitfalls, no longer having to hide his family wasn't one of them. Soon after the Oscar nomination, Finnick got offered a lead role in a drama series that filmed close to Peeta's hometown. The series became a knockout success and when it got renewed for a third season with no end in sight, Finnick, Annie and Jacob packed their bags and moved within driving distance to the set of the series. This was how Peeta found himself standing in Finnick's kitchen nursing a beer and listening to Jacob's tinkling laughter floating in from the other room.

Annie tiptoed into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Finnick's waist, planting a quick kiss in between his shoulder blades as he continued to prepare dinner. Peeta had watched the pair interact with each other for years and it had always fascinated him. Their knowing glances, the way they would purposely touch whenever they walked by one another, their outward and obvious display of love. He hadn't grown up with that. His childhood home had a seemingly impenetrable layer of ice that hovered over, in and all around it. It caused a feeling like you could never get warm no matter how hard you tried. That was his mother's domain. The bakery, his father's domain, on the other hand had always felt warm and his father had always been free with his affection, so it wasn't like Peeta had grown up without ever being or feeling love, but he did grow up never seeing love between a married couple. It confused him and made him skittish in the way he approached his relationship with Katniss, especially now that they were bringing a baby into the world.

"So, when do we get to meet this mysterious Katniss?" Annie asked as she playfully pinched him in the side to move him, so she could gather plates to set the table for dinner. He hesitated a few seconds too long, and her brows furrowed in confusion. She glanced between him and Finnick, her hands hovering awkwardly in the air as she reached for the plates.

"Or not," she continued, clearing her throat and finally grasping the plates in the cabinet.

"No, no…it's just…I haven't…it's new. It's delicate," Peeta stammered.

"She doesn't know about us, love," Finnick added, stepping in to assist. "Or, Proja."

"Peeta," she said slowly, drawing his name out in a reprimand. "Do you love her?"

"I've loved her since I was 5," he replied.

"Then you have to tell her about your brother, especially now. You will be forever linked together regardless of how your relationship turns out. She's carrying your child. She deserves for you to respect her enough to be honest with her about your life and who you are."

She walked out of the kitchen gently brushing Finnick's arm as she passed. He turned and met Peeta's eyes with an "I told you so" glance. Peeta sagged against the counter. He knew she was right. Katniss deserved the world and he wanted nothing more than to give that to her. He wanted what Finnick and Annie had, and he could envision that life with Katniss. But, what Finnick and Annie didn't know and what he could remember all too vividly was a tiny, thin, scared and heartbroken Katniss. A girl too young to face the pain and responsibility that had been suddenly and violently thrust upon her. A girl that had lost both of her parents in a car accident. An accident caused by a drunk driver. He knew that while she deserved his honesty, telling her about Proja would cause a rift between them that he didn't know if he would be able to repair. He looked at the beer growing warm in his hands and as the fear of losing Katniss fell over him, he abandoned it on the counter and went to help Annie with setting the table.


End file.
